With the amount of postponements lately, we haven’t had a decent away game this year yet. The least said about Chesham the better! So we have decided to rewind to our first away game of the season and our trip to Weymouth back in August.
Following our dreams, Weymouth managed to spectacularly screw up their promotion push last season, allowing us a welcome return to The Boot Inn. The friendly staff have a chat, offer samples and even pretend to know where Dunstable is, just to humour us and empty our wallets. The beer on display is always excellent with a couple of local Ringwood's, FortyNinner and Boon Doggle, Brakspear's Oxford Gold, Bank's Sunbeam and Wychwood's Bountiful. Having arrived in town early, we managed to try all the above and enjoyed them, with Sunbeam just sneaking it. A quick shifty down to the fish and chimp shop for some amazing grub including deep fried mackerel, before another quick pint at the Boot whilst waiting for a taxi to the ground. Another good day out.
We left Weymouth in good time following our first point of the season. Once the coach reached the A35, the driver opened her up on the dual carriageway to hasten his boisterous passengers back to Dunstable. This is when the turbo went pop and we ended up on the hard shoulder.
Players and supporters alike were slightly miffed and Captain Bastock took the helm. "We're in the middle of nowhere and not a pub in site" was his first obvious point. Scottie was already on the case and pointed out that a pub was just over the hill on the other side of the dual carriageway.
Bastock led his troops back down the hard shoulder and over a foot bridge, resembling recent events in Calais, and down into the village to the Martyrs Inn, in the historic village of Tolpuddle. The handful of villagers in the pub were somewhat surprised, but the management are probably still on holiday on the proceeds of our time there.
A Hall & Woodhouse establishment meant loads of Badger beer, with Best, Tanglefoot and First Call available.
This progressed to Jagerbombs and things went rapidly downhill from there. A double decker coach pulled up at 21:00 and we slowly boarded the magic bus back to Bedfordshire. No matter how hard we try, that journey will never be bettered.